AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s too soon,” I whimper. This can’t be happening.
“They’re coming, ready or not. We get them out and get you all to a hospital. Help us out here, Jo. I need you to start pushing.”
“I can’t,” I say weakly.
Punk’s eyes probe mine. “You can. You’re strong. Your boys need you.”
As much as I want to deny it, he’s right. I have no choice. My babies are coming. They need me.
Whimpering through my pain, I try to sit more upright against Tony. He puts his long arms out for me to put my feet into his hands. Punk gets back into position.
“When you feel one coming on, you start pushing,” Punk instructs.
Seconds later, a contraction forces me to push my feet into Tony’s meaty palms. My back rams against his chest as I bear down.
“Push, Jo. PUSH!”
“I am pushing, you asshat,” I say through my teeth as the contraction subsides. “You try squeezing out a pineapple through your hoo-ha.”
“Don’t have one, Jo.”
“Are you sure about that?” Tony snorts with amusement.
Another contraction slams into me, no warning, no gradual incline. Just instant pain.
“Come on, sis. Push!”
I scream through the pain, sweating, and digging my nails into Tony’s biceps.
I’m barely given seconds before the next one unleashes on me. Again, I push and cry through clenched teeth.
“Head is out. One more big push, Jo. Give me another one.”
With the veins popping out in my neck, I strain against the contraction, spittle flying from my mouth as I howl.
“He’s out,” Punk shouts with relief. He scoops him up and places him on my chest.
“Cruz,” I whimper, kissing the top of his head. He’s so tiny but a cry rips from his lungs. I sob as I gaze at him. He’s beautiful—exactly like hispapá.
I hold him mere minutes before my contractions come back full-force for the second wave.
Tony takes Cruz from my arms, swaddling him his shirt. I’m repositioned to have the hard bench-seat at my back. Punk takes my feet up in his hands. He nods at me, ready for me to give it my all.
The second wave is worse. I’m sore, weak, and possibly torn. My heart is in smithereens and I feel faint. Still, I push.
“I see the head. Come on, Jo,” Punk coaches.
Again I push, screams ripping from my throat like a wounded animal.
“Heads out,” Punk shouts excitedly. “Almost there. One more, Jo. Give me one more.”
With the last of my strength, I bare down hard. It’s like my insides are being pressed out of me.
“He’s out!” Punk lays Easton across my chest.
Dizzy from my ordeal, I kiss his little head. “Easton.” He’s as beautiful as his brother.
Exhausted, I take in both my boys. Thank the stars, they’re alive and safe. Tony cradles Cruz in his beefy arms, cooing at him tenderly. Punk rubs Easton’s back to get him to cry, his face full of relief.
Easton’s soft wail is the last thing I hear as the world fades away.
